


never felt so sweet

by nights



Series: dial up connection [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Choking, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Fucking, Gags, Handcuffs, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Orgasm Control, POV Zuko (Avatar), Porn Watching, Service Top Sokka (Avatar), Spanking, Sub Zuko (Avatar), Teasing, ahem anyways, here come the kink tags lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:41:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29818197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nights/pseuds/nights
Summary: “You asked for lots of things,” Sokka says cryptically. “I seem to remember you saying something about using you?”Zuko debates denying it, but there’s no use. They were both on the phone call in question. “…Yeah. Maybe.”---Sokka returns from his work trip, and gives Zuko what he asked for.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: dial up connection [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2191881
Comments: 21
Kudos: 227





	never felt so sweet

**Author's Note:**

> so i started writing this, and then all of a sudden it was 9k words. i don't know how to explain myself. many thanks to @spacedao for giving me the name for this series!!
> 
> please exercise caution re: the stuff i've tagged above

They don’t talk much when Sokka gets home.

Zuko says _hi_ at the airport, of course, and Sokka gives him a sweet kiss on the cheek and gushes about how well the conference went, but once they’re finally over the threshold of their apartment, there aren’t many words exchanged other than _yes_ and _fuck_ and _missed you so much_ and _baby_.

It’s only about a week later when Sokka brings up the phone call. Zuko’s in the cramped bathroom that adjoins their bedroom, and with the door ajar he can hear the muffled sounds of something playing on Sokka’s phone.

When Zuko spits out his toothpaste and slips back into the bedroom, he starts to make out what, exactly, the sounds are: someone moaning and whining. Sokka’s looking at his phone with rapt attention.

Zuko clambers onto the bed, running a hand up Sokka’s leg. “You couldn’t wait for me?” 

Sokka’s eyes flick up and a grin splits his face. “I was just looking through my pictures from the conference and — well, I’m gonna have to make a separate album for these.”

He tilts the screen so Zuko can see, and there’s one of the videos he’d sent Sokka; it’s one he took the night after that fateful phone call, the camera set up at a distance to get his whole body in the field of view, Zuko’s head thrown to the side while he strokes himself and gasps Sokka’s name, hips thrusting up into his hand. Present Zuko flushes hard and tries to grab the phone, but Sokka snatches it away.

“Stop it,” Zuko grumbles, but Sokka just laughs and keeps the phone out of reach. 

It’s still playing those sounds, those high embarrassing sounds that Zuko kind of can’t believe he actually sent to Sokka for safekeeping. _God, I sound ridiculous._ Outside of the heat of the moment, Zuko thinks he sounds a little silly, those melodramatic porn-y moans that make him cringe — he can hear Video Zuko gasp _please, want you so bad, Sokka, fuck me —_

“Seriously, cut it out!” Zuko claws for the phone again, wrestling with Sokka.

“Come on, it’s sexy!” Sokka yanks the phone away. “I like this video.”

Zuko doesn’t quite get the phone, but manages to hit the lock button and stop Video Zuko’s moaning, thank _god_. 

“I sound stupid,” Zuko gripes. “You don’t have to pretend I don’t sound stupid.”

Sokka relaxes, and the phone drops on the bedspread next to them. In the midst of wrestling, Zuko got himself tangled up in Sokka’s limbs, and Sokka takes the opportunity now to slot their legs together and settle Zuko against his chest.

“I’m not pretending,” Sokka says good-naturedly, nosing into the soft, feathery hair behind Zuko’s ear. “I really do think it’s sexy. All those pictures and videos.” 

Zuko can feel Sokka’s breath hot on his neck, and it sends a little zing of goosebumps down his spine — but Zuko feels like being intentionally obstinate. It might be because of his genuine trouble accepting Sokka’s desire for him, or it might be because Zuko knows it’ll solicit more compliments from Sokka; maybe it’s a little of both.

“Stooop,” Zuko whines, even as Sokka slips wandering hands under the back of his shirt.

“Mm, stop what? Thinking you’re sexy as hell?” Sokka murmurs, lips brushing over Zuko’s neck as he forms the words. 

Zuko squirms. “You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t, actually.” Sokka pulls back, enough to look Zuko in the eyes. “Do you want me to delete them? If you change your mind, I’ll get rid of them. But…” he presses a kiss to Zuko’s lips, “if you’re just worried I don’t actually think they’re hot as fuck, then you’re wrong about that.” 

Zuko’s heart feels fluttery, still strung-out and hair-trigger for Sokka, even after all these years. He _wants_ to believe that he looks good, sounds good, but something inside him is still dragging its feet.

“You don’t think I look ridiculous?” Zuko asks doubtfully, and Sokka laughs against his mouth.

“Baby.” Sokka guides Zuko’s palm down, against the front of his pajama pants. “Feel that?”

Zuko can most definitely feel. He swallows, pressing his palm firmer against the stiff line of him, listening to Sokka suck in a little gasp of air.

“Honestly, what’s ridiculous is how many times I rewatched those videos you sent me. Especially the one with the underwear I bought you, that one’s my favorite.” Sokka whispers the words into Zuko’s ear, soft and breathy in that way that always makes Zuko twitchy and eager to get his hands on him.

“Uh, which one?” Zuko asks, because he’d sent quite a few videos, and he’s concentrating more on the way Sokka’s mouthing at his jaw than on the particulars of his own sexting.

Sokka grabs the phone again and unlocks it — Video Zuko’s moans blurt to life again before Sokka scrolls, and Present Zuko tries his damnedest not to hide his embarrassed face in Sokka’s shoulder. Sokka flicks back through a few pictures of Zuko sprawled across the bed, until he hits the video he’s looking for.

It starts with Zuko on his knees, facing the camera, hands running over himself. He’d put the black ones on again; they really were unbelievably flimsy, completely see-through and liable to tear if someone pulls too hard on them.

Present Zuko feels the heat rise in his cheeks again and shifts, feeling the urge to flee but staying put for Sokka’s sake. Video Zuko draws closer to the camera, showing off the little wet smear of pre-cum on the mesh of the underwear, fingers cupping himself, tucking his thumbs under the straps at his hips.

“Miss you so much, Sokka,” Video Zuko purrs, with a confidence that feels foreign to Present Zuko. “‘M just dying for you to come fuck me.” 

Sokka lets out a long breath through his nose, and underneath Zuko’s hand, there’s a little twitch. 

“Want you to fuck me ‘til I can’t stand,” Video Zuko breathes, pulling his cock out and stroking slowly. As he settles back against the bed, Sokka’s eyes flick back to Present Zuko.

“Still want me to do that?” he asks, a little smile spreading on his face. 

“Of course I still want you to do that.” Zuko finds himself smiling back, even though Video Zuko is letting out some truly debauched noises. “I always want you to do that.”

Sokka hums happily, abandoning the phone in favor of kissing Zuko’s neck, starting at his jaw and moving further down his chest. He pauses at Zuko’s collarbone, looking up at Zuko wickedly.

“You asked for lots of things,” Sokka says cryptically. “I seem to remember you saying something about using you?” 

Zuko debates denying it, but there’s no use. They were both on the phone call in question. “…Yeah. Maybe.”

Sokka grins, and his hands slip around to grab palmfuls of Zuko’s ass. “What did you have in mind, exactly? Hm?” 

Zuko just squirms a little. “Um.” God, does he really have to say it out loud?

“If I recall correctly, there was a spanking involved? And something about tying you up?”

Despite the self-conscious twist in his stomach, Zuko feels a giddy thrill at Sokka putting words to those fantasies.

“Mmhmm.” Zuko tilts his hips back into Sokka’s grip, and Sokka squeezes lightly.

“I’m gonna need a little elaboration, Zuko.” Sokka’s still grinning at him.

He doesn’t know if he can summon the words. “Well, I… uh.” Zuko’s hands twist, gripping Sokka’s shirt. “What if I just show you?” 

Sokka pulls back a little. “Sure.”

Zuko has to extricate himself, unfortunately, to go get his laptop. When he returns, Sokka pulls him in, so that Zuko’s between his legs, back against Sokka’s chest; Zuko can feel the heat radiating through Sokka’s shirt and the impatient press of Sokka’s erection against his back.

When he opens the laptop, Zuko’s work email stares him in the face. Those will have to wait until tomorrow; Zuko closes the window and pulls up a private browser. He navigates to his usual porn site, feeling a little exposed and vulnerable — it feels strangely intimate, for anyone (even his _husband_ ) to know what he searches up when he wants to get his rocks off.

Zuko’s fingers hesitate over the keys, search bar blank. A few god-awful ads blink from the home page, advertising size-enlargement pills that are certainly just snake oil and _hot singles near you!_ that are certainly just malware.

“Come on. Show me,” Sokka prods, wrapping his arms around Zuko’s chest.

Zuko grumbles, tries to think of something to type in; eventually he taps _submissive_ into the search bar, and Sokka gives a pleased hum behind him.

“Baby —” Sokka starts, but is cut off by Zuko’s shushing.

“Stop. Let me — just shut up.”

“Okay, okay. Shutting up.”

Zuko feels _mortified_ while he’s scrolling through the search results, but finally he finds something that looks like it might be along the right lines. 

It opens with a shot from the side of a bed, one of the co-stars on his back, blindfolded, wrists bound in front of him in tan rope. His head tilts off the end of the bed, mouth open and waiting, and then the other performer comes into frame. He leans down, kissing the blindfolded man, one hand laid possessively over his counterpart’s throat. The kiss is sloppy and wet, and then he pulls back and spits in the blindfolded man’s mouth. 

Sokka shifts behind Zuko, breathing shuddering a little, so softly Zuko can only tell because Sokka’s lips are inches from his ear.

“I think you’d look good in red rope. Or maybe black,” Sokka says lowly. “Those colors look so good on you.”

Zuko clears his throat. “Yeah, uh. I’d like that.”

“We’ll have to do some shopping, then.”

The thought of waltzing through a sex store makes Zuko’s stomach twist in fear. “Oh, god.”

Sokka seems to sense Zuko tense up, because he follows soothingly with “Online shopping, baby. Just you and me. Like when we bought the toys, remember?”

Zuko relaxes, and on screen the pair are going at it, the dom thrusting into the submissive’s mouth in a rough way that makes Zuko maybe a _little_ apprehensive, but mostly makes his skin go hot and tingly.

“You want that?” Sokka asks, hands curling around Zuko’s forearms.

“Uhh… well, I don’t know if I can take _that_ much,” Zuko qualifies, eying how much dick is disappearing into the man’s mouth, “but. Yeah. That.”

The video cuts, and now the bound man is bent over on the bed; with his hands still tied, his face is half-buried in the sheets, muffling his cries while the other one eats him out. Zuko’s had Sokka’s mouth on him plenty of times before, but Zuko still flushes and shifts uncomfortably, hyper-aware of Sokka’s presence behind him.

Zuko clicks the _back_ button, and Sokka gives an indignant noise.

“Hey, I was watching that.”

“Don’t get sidetracked. I’m just trying to illustrate what I want, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sokka tilts his hips, pressing the hardness in his pants against Zuko’s back as a reminder. “All this _illustrating_ is making me horny.”

Zuko finds another video; there’s a new pair, now, one of them with his wrists and ankles chained behind his head, locked to the metal headboard of a bed.

“Okay, I’m not that flexible,” Zuko mutters, and Sokka laughs.

“I guess we’ll have to find out, won’t we?” Sokka mouths at Zuko’s neck. “Better start stretching.”

The dom on the screen gives the other man’s ass a gentle smack. It’s lighthearted, playfully passing the time while he strokes himself. 

Sokka’s hands find their way between Zuko’s pajamas and underwear, palming insistently.

“That, too? You want that?” he asks, working Zuko over with a firm hand. The little edge of friction stokes the heat starting to curl in Zuko’s gut, and Zuko’s breath hitches.

“Y-yeah. Well, more than that.”

“More?”

“Mmhmm, like — harder.”

Sokka inhales sharply. “Fuck, Zuko.”

Now that Sokka’s so close, murmuring in his ear, slipping his hand under the waist of his boxers and wrapping those fingers around him, Zuko’s feeling a little bolder, enough to put a few words to his desires.

“Yeah, I… I want you to, uh, get rough with me. Throw me around. I can take it, I promise.”

Sokka drags in a rattling breath. “God, baby.”

Zuko’s confidence falters suddenly. “Sorry, too much?” 

“No, I just — have you always wanted this? Or is this new?”

“It’s not… new. I don’t know.” Zuko sighs, and Sokka gives his neck a few more kisses. “I guess I’ve always been interested? Kind of? But it wasn’t something I wanted to ask for. Until recently, I guess.” 

“Well, I’m glad you’re asking now.” Sokka nuzzles the crook of Zuko’s neck. “I wanna give you everything you want. All of it.” 

And _that_ is far too sweet for Zuko to handle in his current state, so Zuko busies himself with finding another video. They watch a few more, with Zuko haltingly pointing out which parts he likes and Sokka kissing him breathless for it, until finally Sokka gets impatient and demands they purchase some supplies.

They end up on the same site they ordered their prostate massager from, but Zuko clicks on the _Kinky_ tab instead of _For Him_. 

“How about those?” Sokka asks, pointing to a pair of pink fuzzy handcuffs.

Zuko’s response is curt. “Absolutely not.”

“Come on, I think it’d be cute.” Sokka’s half-giggling, clearly poking fun.

“I swear to god, Sokka, I will leave you —”

“Okay, fine, no fuzzy handcuffs!” Sokka’s breathless with laughter. “Jeez.”

Zuko scrolls a little. “These.”

They’re velcro — no chance of losing a key — and padded in plain black, no fuzz in sight.

“Whatever you want, baby.”

They end up with far more in the cart than Zuko originally intended, but the thought of Sokka using all of it on him has him tense with anticipation, and Sokka starts running his mouth about all the nasty things he’s cooking up, so it’s worth the dent in the joint account, in the end.

When the shipment comes, Sokka opens it with glee and demands that Zuko clear his schedule for, as Sokka puts it, “the dicking of a lifetime”. Zuko rolls his eyes, but clears his schedule anyways.

He’s sitting on the edge of their bed, fresh from a shower and a little extra prep, while Sokka pulls their new acquisitions out of the dresser drawer.

“Hey, Zuko?” Sokka says, rooting around in the drawer.

“Yeah?”

“Get undressed.”

There’s a matter-of-fact, confident edge to Sokka’s voice that makes Zuko’s skin prickle, so he obliges, shucking his clothes quickly. 

Sokka turns around with the cuffs in hand.

“Okay, so — let’s go over the colors again?” he says. “I’m a little nervous, honestly.”

Not that Zuko could tell. Sokka looks the picture of confidence, standing over Zuko, unwrapping the cuffs.

“Nervous?”

“Yeah, I just wanna — I wanna make it good for you. Live up to your fantasies, and all that.” Sokka smiles softly down at him, the corners of his mouth giving him away with a barely-noticable tremble.

“Somehow I really don’t think that’s going to be an issue,” Zuko muses. “Uh, red for _I need to stop_ , yellow for _ease up a little_ or _check in_ , and green for _this is great_. And I’m a little nervous, too. But excited.”

“Non-verbal?” Zuko snaps his fingers, and Sokka exhales. “Okay.”

Sokka’s thumb rubs at his jaw, then presses at Zuko’s bottom lip, and Zuko’s mouth parts with no resistance. Sokka’s thumb rubs along his lip, the ridge of his teeth, his tongue, and then he slips two fingers in. Zuko takes the opportunity to wrap his lips around those fingers — Sokka heaves a long breath in response, and Zuko’s stomach goes liquid and warm. He’ll do anything if Sokka likes it.

Without really thinking, Zuko slips off the edge of the bed to kneel on the floor, and Sokka makes a half-choked noise in the back of his throat.

“Fuck. Let’s get you tied up, shall we?” Zuko nods in response. “Hands behind your back.”

That confident, sure-footed voice is back again, and it’s working Zuko up with a speed that he didn’t know he could manage. Sokka doesn’t seem to be paying attention to Zuko’s rapidly hardening dick, though; he puts the cuffs on, then tucks a finger under Zuko’s chin to tilt his line of sight up.

“God, you look pretty.” His hand is at Zuko’s jaw again, and Zuko’s having to focus very hard on keeping his breathing steady. “Just gorgeous.”

He squats down, eye-level with Zuko, and kisses him deep and filthy.

“You want the gag?” Sokka asks into his mouth, when Zuko pants out a _yes_ , Sokka laughs. “So eager.”

The gag is black, too, silicone with a leather strap. Zuko worries for a moment that he looks insane, mouth wide around it, but Sokka just kisses the gag and straightens with a breathless look on his face. 

“Look at you. Being so good for me.” 

“Yes,” is what Zuko _tries_ to say, but it just comes out as a muffled moan around the gag. “Wanna be good for you.” That comes out totally garbled, too, more gasp than anything else.

Sokka’s mouth snaps up into a mischievous smile. “What’s that?”

He’s teasing, Zuko knows it, and he plays into it anyway, because the little evil bite to Sokka right now is exciting, new. He repeats himself, making more unintelligible noises, and Sokka just grins wider.

“You know, I can’t understand a thing you’re saying. Enunciate.”

Zuko’s eyes flutter shut for just a moment before Sokka’s tapping his cheek. Zuko garbles again, trying to form consonants as best as he can and completely failing.

“I still can’t hear you. Didn’t anyone teach you not to talk with your mouth full?” Sokka tuts. “You’re not very good at following directions.”

“I’m trying my best,” Zuko tries to complain. 

Sokka doesn’t let up. “More disobedience.” He gives Zuko’s cheek a couple gentle smacks with his palm — nothing close to stinging, but the mere gesture makes Zuko whine. “Do I have to teach you a lesson?”

Zuko makes another noise that’s supposed to be a _yes_ , and Sokka’s hand drops from his jaw.

“Get on the bed.” 

Zuko doesn’t understand how Sokka’s so _calm_. He’s still Sokka, still laughing and teasing, but the ease with which he’s taking to this new, quietly domineering role is a little terrifying — terrifying in a good way, and Zuko feels jumpy and frantic and already so turned on — _fuck, how am I already this turned on?_

It’s a little awkward to climb up there with his hands behind his back, but he makes it eventually. Sokka sits next to him and pats his lap, so Zuko makes to swing a leg over, but Sokka grabs his thigh and stops him.

“No, lay across my lap.” Zuko tries to say _okay_ and Sokka huffs out a light laugh. “Don’t worry, you can ride me later.” 

The image of it flashes in Zuko’s head, pushing a little whine out of Zuko while Sokka manhandles him into position.

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Or maybe I should bend you over and fuck you properly.” Sokka heaves a shaky sigh as he runs a hand over Zuko’s skin, the only indication of just how affected he is by this whole thing.

Well, it would be the only indication if Zuko couldn’t feel Sokka’s dick through the layers of clothes, straining against Zuko’s abdomen.

Sokka’s hand palms over Zuko’s ass, gentle, with the threat of more. “Let’s test that non-verbal safeword again, baby.” 

Zuko twists his wrist easily and snaps.

“Good boy.” Zuko doesn’t even care anymore, there’s no point in trying for words; he lets out a happy hum around the gag. “You want your lesson now?”

Zuko buries his head in the sheets and nods, but gasps when Sokka’s fingers thread into his hair and tug his head up by the roots. It’s a dull pain, just beginning to scratch that itch of Zuko’s to be knocked around.

“Answer me properly, sweetheart. As best as you can. You want it?” Sokka’s voice is gentle, even with his hand holding Zuko’s hair tight.

“Yes, I want it,” Zuko mumbles, eyes still closed. With the gag in his mouth, it’s all but impossible to keep from drooling; a little errant saliva finds its way out of the corner of his mouth and begins trailing down his chin.

Sokka drops Zuko’s hair; honestly, Zuko finds himself missing it. “There we go.”

One hand settles firmly in the small of his back, and before Zuko can suck in a breath to prepare the other one is cracking down on him. It’s not quite painful, but it startles a muffled little yelp out of him.

“Baby, is —” Sokka starts, worry in his voice, and then cuts himself off, rubbing a soothing hand over the skin. The other hand drifts over Zuko’s wrists and hands, a question, waiting.

But Zuko doesn’t snap; he threads his fingers between Sokka’s as best as he can, and then that hand is firm on his back again.

There’s another swat, harder this time, but Zuko’s ready for it — he just sucks in a breath and lets it out in a sigh. There’s a little sting, there, that he wants to chase —

Sokka’s hand comes down again, harder, harder, until Zuko’s finally whining with each strike. The sharp pain cuts through his haze like a knife through warm butter, stoking the fire in Zuko’s belly; It’s all he can do to keep from rutting against Sokka’s leg like some kind of animal. 

“Oh, you just love this, don’t you… Fuck, Zuko. I’m starting to think you’re not learning anything.”

What was he supposed to be learning, again? Zuko can’t even remember. Sokka delivers another volley, laying them just at the crease between Zuko’s ass and thighs, a sensitive place that wrings a yell out of him. 

There’s a pause, then, while Sokka rubs his palms over the burning skin. Zuko’s starting to feel dizzy, muffling his moans into the sheets, hands clenching around nothing.

“Come on. Have you learned your lesson?” Sokka says sweetly, urging Zuko’s head to the side. When he twists, Zuko can just barely see Sokka leaning closer, watching him carefully.

Zuko shakes his head _no_. “Unh-uh.”

Sokka’s grin lights up his face, and another hard swat lands on Zuko’s ass. It stings like a motherfucker, laid on top of Sokka’s previous work, and finally Zuko does rut, grinding into Sokka’s leg, writhing in his lap. He’s going _insane_ , the pain blending with pleasure so seamlessly, with Sokka’s hand keeping him firmly in place, right where he belongs.

“Oh my _god_. You’re just desperate for it, aren’t you?” Sokka’s words are going a little weak around the edges. “Yeah, you want that ass to be nice and red. _Shit_ , baby.”

There are a few more swats that have Zuko rolling his hips into Sokka’s leg, and then Sokka stops, torso shifting as he shuffles around. Zuko can barely find it in him to pick his head up and make an impatient noise.

“Wait.” 

Finally, there’s a click, and then Zuko sucks in a breath at a cold, lube-coated finger on his rim.

“Relax, baby. I’ve got you.”

Sokka’s finger circles slow, excruciatingly slow, then finally tucks in; Zuko buries his head further into the covers to muffle his whines. It’s like he’s on fire, the skin of his backside flaming and tingling when Sokka’s hand grips and massages it, and between the sweet friction of Sokka’s leg on his cock and the slide of Sokka’s fingers, two now, working him open, Zuko can’t help but squirm shamelessly.

“Zuko… sit still,” Sokka chides, curling his fingers down and dragging a long moan out of Zuko.

He can’t, of course, sit still — he can barely _think_ — and then Sokka’s free palm cracks down on him again. It surprises Zuko, it’s searing on his tender skin, and Zuko screams around the gag — but _god_ is it good. The sting just makes him more frantic, but Zuko tries his absolute best to sit still, for Sokka, _be good for Sokka —_

Sokka sighs, “Good boy, there, sit nice and still for me,” and lays another swat on him, but this one’s gentler.

He lays his palm flat over the small of Zuko’s back; it’s a comforting presence. There’s a pause, the wet chill of more lube on him, and then Zuko feels another finger working its way in softly, unbearably gentle after the pain of Sokka’s strikes. It’s almost an unconscious movement when he spreads his legs a little, he just wants _more_ , but Sokka chuckles and scratches his nails lightly over Zuko’s skin.

“Ohh, is this what you want?” Sokka asks, low and velvet, and works his fingers further in.

Zuko shoves his face in the sheets and groans back, and then Sokka starts up the swats again, sharp hits that pepper over his ass and thighs. He doesn’t settle into a rhythm; each series is unexpected, and with each one Zuko’s hips startle and jerk against Sokka’s leg. Zuko’s vision is going hazy, he feels out of his mind — he’s barreling headlong towards his orgasm.

Zuko picks his head up and tries to warn Sokka, to plea for relief, something, but he can’t do anything other than moan and whine around the gag. Sokka slows and leans close to Zuko, voice low.

“Hm? What is it?” There’s a little smile in his voice, because he knows, he _knows_ Zuko can’t say shit, and he’s fucking _teasing_ him about it —

Zuko gives an indignant noise in response, and Sokka just laughs, but then his voice goes soft.

“Too much?”

Zuko squirms, hands clenched tight, and shakes his head. He doesn’t want to safeword, he doesn’t think he’s been so turned on in his _life_ , but if Sokka doesn’t stop soon —

“More?”

Sokka starts again, Zuko’s skin _burns_ , and those fingers are curling down into that spot _perfectly_ , and if Zuko just grinds a _little_ harder into Sokka’s leg — he’s having fun with it, curse him, sounding absolutely delighted by each new whine that rips out of Zuko.

He twists his fingers and Zuko’s hips jolt of their own accord. “Ohh, are you gonna come soon? Is that it?”

Zuko nods his head into the sheets and gasps through another swat. He’s teetering right off the edge —

“Ask permission, baby.”

He turns his head to the side to catch Sokka’s eyes; Sokka grins, breath coming heavy, and uses one hand to push the sweaty hair off Zuko’s brow. He tries his best, he really does, begging around the gag, but Sokka just keeps smirking and working his fingers inside him, and Zuko can’t help that he still can’t speak — he’s not entirely sure that he’d be able to even without the gag, he’s so high off the sweet sting of Sokka’s palm and the burn of Sokka’s fingers inside him —

Sokka tuts, still smug. “You’re gonna have to use your words.”

He strikes Zuko’s ass again, and Zuko whines, clenching hard around Sokka’s hand — those _fingers_ , sliding in and out so slow Zuko can feel Sokka’s fucking _knuckles_ —

“I’m still not hearing you ask properly…”

Sokka delivers an especially hard swat to Zuko’s skin and he dissolves, legs shivering through the storm that washes over him. Yeah, he’s drooling a little onto the bedsheets, and he’s making an absolute mess of Sokka’s jeans, but Zuko doesn’t _care_ , not when the white-hot strikes of Sokka’s hand are sending slivers of pleasure lancing up Zuko’s spine, and certainly not when Sokka’s hand curls down harder, rubbing, drawing his orgasm out into a wash of heat that Zuko can feel right down to his toes.

He’s only barely coming down off the high when Sokka makes a sound of disappointment, hands still working carefully. Fingers slip out of him, and there’s a pause before two now-dry hands rub soothing circles over him.

“Sweetheart… I didn’t give you permission to finish, now did I?”

Zuko’s stomach twists — there’s a threat, there, underneath Sokka’s gentle tone, but Zuko kind of wants to find out what comes after. Scratch that, he _really_ wants to find out what comes after.

Once Zuko’s breathing slows, and he’s limp and trembling on Sokka’s lap, he’s shifted up and off until he’s sitting on the bed next to Sokka. Finally, he can see Sokka clearly: there’s a deep, ruddy flush in his cheeks, and he looks a little hazy himself. Sokka’s hands come up to undo the straps and ease the gag out of Zuko’s mouth.

“Look at you. So sloppy,” Sokka murmurs, thumb brushing through the saliva trailing from Zuko’s lower lip. Zuko works his jaw a little — he hadn’t realized how long he’d had his mouth open — and Sokka asks, “Sore?”

“A little,” Zuko confesses, words rasping and gritty from disuse.

Sokka’s eyes dart over his face, from his mouth to his eyes and back again, before he swoops in and kisses Zuko deep.

“Fuck, baby. You’re — look at this shit.” He gestures down to his lap, to his tented pants and the smear of cum on his thigh.

Zuko sways, leaning closer to Sokka; he’s always been clingy in bed, but it’s hitting new heights now. It’s agony to not be touching Sokka somehow, to feel him close.

“Sorry,” he whispers, and Sokka pulls him in, one hand at his shoulder and the other at his jaw.

Sokka swallows. “I don’t think you’re sorry at all.” The commanding edge to his voice is back again. “Do you think you earned that orgasm? Hm?”

He’s watching Zuko so carefully; Zuko melts under the attention. He shakes his head.

“No?” Sokka asks firmly.

Zuko’s confirmation comes out in a breathless sigh: “No. I didn’t.”

“Alright, baby. Get on your knees.”

Sokka stands as Zuko slips off the bed and shuffles in front of him, a little awkward with his hands still bound but it’s fine, it’s fine because now he can lay his cheek on Sokka’s thigh and look up at him, ready, so ready.

Sokka exhales through his nose, slow, running his fingers through Zuko’s hair. “Good boy.”

The approval, the soft touches, the knowledge that Zuko is right where Sokka wants him — maybe it’s a little concerning how desperately happy and horny it all makes Zuko, but that’s something he’ll unpack later. For now, he leans his head into Sokka’s hand, eyes falling shut.

“You know, I’ve been doing all the work so far. That doesn’t seem fair.”

“’S not fair,” Zuko breathes, shuffling closer, mouthing over the line of Sokka’s erection.

“Why don’t you show me how sorry you are? Be a good boy and show me.”

Zuko turns his head up to see the way Sokka’s mouth has dropped open to pant out loud. Sokka’s tongue darts out to lick his lips; Zuko kind of wants to get up and kiss him, but that would require getting off his knees, and they can’t have that.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to — I didn’t, I… I tried to ask, but I couldn’t —”

Sokka’s thumb goes to run over Zuko’s tongue, the other hand still in his hair, fingers twisting.

“I said show, not tell.” A little whine leaks out of Zuko, and Sokka smiles crookedly. “You can think of a way to show me, right?”

Zuko nods around Sokka’s thumb. He tilts his head down again to part his mouth over Sokka’s clothed cock, but there’s not much he can do about buttons and zippers while his hands are behind his back.

He goes to nose at Sokka’s belt. “I can’t — my hands —”

Sokka hums and undoes his belt and zipper, a little clumsily, shifting to get his jeans down and pull himself out; Zuko runs his tongue up the underside, looking up at Sokka through his lashes. Sokka looks almost as wrecked as Zuko feels, groaning softly. Zuko takes him in, then, focuses on swirling his tongue just the way Sokka likes.

“God — yeah. Just like that.” The hand in Zuko’s hair tightens, holding his hair firmly but leaving the movements up to him. “Yeah, ah… that’s it —”

Sokka leans his head back, sighing, and Zuko settles into the familiar rhythm. He knows what Sokka needs, the speed and pressure to use, the spot just under the ridge of the head to run his tongue over, and it’s nice. It’s nice, but Zuko doesn’t really want nice at that particular moment. He wants that delirious high from earlier, when Sokka had been in control.

Zuko takes him deeper, until he’s bumping against the back of his throat, and Sokka’s hand tightens. Zuko takes a deep breath, then tries deeper — there’s a little jump in his throat at the unfamiliar intrusion, but nothing Zuko can’t breathe through — he goes slow, trying a little more with each pass, and each time he manages a little more, and then Sokka slips right down his throat.

Sokka gasps, then, sinking into it, and Zuko focuses hard on breathing through the initial gag reflex — he comes up, then goes down again, and again.

“ _Fuck_ , baby, fuck —” Sokka hisses; Zuko swallows around him, moaning. “That’s — oh my _god_.”

Zuko pulls off, sucking in air. “‘M sorry, so sorry,” he murmurs, then slides back down again, taking him all the way to the root and wringing another gasp out of him.

“Yeah, I know you are, baby — fuck, you’re — so greedy. You can’t get enough of it, can you?” Sokka’s words trail up into a whine at the end, right when Zuko starts moving.

Zuko moans an _unh-uh_ as best as he can, starting to feel that hazy pleasure again — it feels so good to please Sokka, to be as sloppy and eager as Sokka wants, to feel Sokka’s hand twist in his hair when he swirls his tongue just right. He’s sure he looks obscene, there’s a line of saliva running down his chin and onto his chest — but he can’t bring himself to care, not when Sokka’s looking down at him like that, gritting his teeth and letting out these little choked gasps that Zuko wants to drink right up.

Zuko stops for a moment to breathe and say into Sokka’s leg, “Sokka… please, want you to be rough with me. Please.”

Sokka whines an, “O-okay, baby,” starting slow and excruciatingly gentle. He maneuvers Zuko carefully, looking for the best angle; at first it’s a bit awkward, and then Zuko tilts his head up slightly and moans when he feels Sokka slide down his throat again. There’s a moment where his gag reflex jumps, and Sokka gasps and pulls back.

Sokka opens his mouth to say something but Zuko jumps in with “Green, green, please,” and leans forward, tugging at Sokka’s grip on his hair.

Sokka heaves a long exhale and looks down at Zuko with something like awe, maybe a little bit like hunger. “Baby, you’re just — shit. Doing so good. That mouth — fuck, it’s incredible — _god_ …” He sinks in again, gritting his teeth and groaning, deep in his chest, and Zuko’s skin runs hot all over knowing that Sokka loves this, too.

It’s so easy to lose himself in it, let Sokka take the lead and guide his head for him, feel Sokka heavy on his tongue and in his throat. And Sokka’s still looking down at him with those frantic eyes, one hand on Zuko’s cheek, the other firmly gripping the hair at the back of Zuko’s head — when he pulls, there’s just a dull tug as Zuko follows to where Sokka wants him, wherever Sokka wants him, whatever Sokka wants him to do — Zuko tries his best to keep looking up at Sokka, but it’s so easy to just let his eyes slip closed and take whatever Sokka will give him.

“Taking it so good —” Sokka whines, as if hearing Zuko’s thoughts, and then holds Zuko down for a beat. Zuko’s eyelids flutter, and he holds his breath, and then Sokka eases Zuko back off again. “That okay, baby?”

“Yes,” Zuko rasps, sucking in a breath. “So okay.”

Sokka leans over, tilting Zuko’s head back, and kisses Zuko’s spit-slick mouth eagerly.

“Yeah, you like this? This rough enough for you?” Sokka murmurs, pulling back from Zuko’s lips only enough to form the words against his mouth.

Zuko nods through it, whining when Sokka’s teeth catch on his bottom lip. “Yeah, this’s good —”

“You want more?” Sokka grins — he already knows the answer.

Zuko gasps “Please, _please_ ,” and then Sokka straightens, hand at Zuko’s jaw to guide him.

He watches with watering eyes as Sokka whines, breathing coming faster; he can feel Sokka getting close, he can see it, in the way Sokka’s jaw tenses and how his hand grasps Zuko’s jaw tighter.

“Baby, fuck… Zuko —” Sokka stops, dragging Zuko off, breathing hard. “I’m gonna — we’re gonna have to take a breather.”

Zuko swallows some of the saliva that Sokka provoked. He must look ridiculous, some of it running down his chin, lips swollen. He certainly feels ridiculous. He feels _good_ , hazy, all warm and syrupy inside. He doesn’t want to take a breather, he wants more of that warm syrupy feeling. “Why?”

Sokka chokes. “ _Fuck_ , you’re… you’re insatiable, you know that?” Zuko just whines and leans forward again to run his tongue along the length of him. “ _I_ need a breather, otherwise I’m gonna finish before I can actually fuck you.”

“Just fuck me, then,” Zuko says, blinking up at Sokka. “You said you would. You said I could ride you, you promised.”

“Zuko —” Sokka moans, and casts his eyes up to the ceiling for a moment before turning his gaze back to Zuko.

“Please?” Zuko noses at the curly wisps at the base of Sokka’s stomach, waiting. “Did I do a good job apologizing?”

“Apologizing for what?” Sokka asks, breathless, then realizes. “Oh! Oh. Yeah, you did such a good job, baby.”

Zuko preens, smiling and turning his head to mouth along the length of Sokka’s dick. He’s so far beyond giving a fuck about Sokka knowing how much he loves shit like this — he smiles up at Sokka, parting his mouth when Sokka’s hand on his jaw moves to run a thumb along his bottom lip, across his tongue.

“Did… fuck, you did an amazing job… with…” Sokka’s words trail off when Zuko wraps his lips around Sokka’s fingers and sucks gently. “Uhh.”

Zuko finds a little laugh bubbling up inside him — he’s giddy, still a little bit dizzy and delirious, and Sokka’s looking at him with those dazed eyes, and god, Sokka can really just play Zuko like a fiddle, can’t he?

“What?” Sokka asks, half-laughing himself. “What’re you laughing at?”

“I don’t know,” Zuko says, truthfully, and Sokka rolls his eyes.

“Well, you’d better stop, ‘cause I’m not gonna fuck you if you’re laughing at me.” Zuko swallows down his next giggle and nods. Sokka hums approvingly. “Good boy.”

Zuko’s cock twitches against his thigh at that and — oh, in all the commotion, he hadn’t even noticed he was hard again.

“Sokka.” Zuko squirms, hands flexing. “Can we — could you — I wanna ride you. Please? Let me?”

Sokka exhales hard, then there’s a flurry of Sokka hauling Zuko up from his knees, grasping him by the waist, and manhandling them onto the bed so that Sokka’s leant back against the headboard with Zuko on his lap. Zuko relishes it, the feeling of getting maneuvered by Sokka just where he wants him — Zuko ruts a little in Sokka’s lap, hissing at the feeling of their cocks sliding against each other, and Sokka hisses too.

“F-fuck, Zuko.” His fingers dig into the meat of Zuko’s ass — the skin’s still slightly tender, just enough to remind Zuko of the spanking from earlier and send heat crawling up his spine.

“Want it so bad, Sokka,” Zuko mumbles, groaning and grinding into Sokka’s lap. “Please give it to me, please, _please._ ”

Sokka turns slightly, fumbling around beside them for the lube. “Yeah, just — shit —” He grabs the bottle and pours some in his hand haphazardly; some of the lube drips onto Sokka’s chest.

“You’re all messy,” Zuko says, then moans when Sokka reaches a hand around to slick himself up and guide Zuko’s hips back down onto him.

“Doesn’t matter, just wanna —” Sokka eases in then, and his eyelids slam shut. “Yeah, god.”

It’s easy for Zuko to sink right down, until he’s got his hips against Sokka’s again — he’s still warmed-up from earlier, and it’s worth it to see Sokka’s lips part in a silent moan, then hear it when Zuko rocks back and forth, rolling his hips.

“Ohh, you’re — like that, just like that —” Sokka’s hands grip Zuko’s hips tight, moving right along with them when they grind down and lift up again. “You just… ah, you take it all, huh? So easy for me.”

Zuko lifts up more, and with each roll of his hips down into Sokka’s lap, those hands tighten at his hips, and Zuko’s eyelids slide shut, and he focuses on finding just the right rhythm —

“Unh-uh. Look at me.”

Sokka’s voice is so stern, Zuko’s eyes fly open automatically; he’s looking up at Zuko, determined, cheeks dark pink.

He hums approvingly, “That’s right, look at me while you ride it. Hunh —” Sokka’s eyelids flutter at a particularly good angle, but he goes right back to keeping Zuko’s gaze. “Such a good slut.”

The moan that tears out of Zuko is kind of a surprise; he wasn’t expecting the shiver that travels down his body at being called that.

Sokka’s eyes light up. “You like that?”

Zuko moans again and tries his best not to screw his eyes shut in embarrassment.

“Ohh, you love it, don’t you?” Zuko nods reluctantly. “You like being slutty for me? Fuck, you’re — look at you, taking all that cock —”

Sokka shifts, bending his knees to brace his feet on the bed and tilt his hips up each time Zuko sinks down again. The change in angle has Zuko whimpering with each thrust, going loose and letting Sokka move him. He starts listing forward, eyes drifting shut — he can’t focus on much, just how good Sokka feels —

“Getting tired already?” Sokka teases, and swats Zuko’s ass. Zuko yelps in surprise, straightening. “You just want me to do all the work, huh.”

Zuko shakes his head. “No, n-no, I’ll do it — I just, it’s so —” He shuts his eyes for a moment, and Sokka smacks his backside again.

“Eyes on me.” Sokka’s still panting, and holds Zuko’s gaze when he delivers another crack to Zuko’s tender skin — it’s already starting to burn again, still tender from before.

Zuko lifts himself up and sinks down, trying his absolute best to keep a steady pace and keep his eyes on Sokka.

“Feels so good,” Zuko rasps, and rolls his hips into Sokka’s, watching Sokka’s brow furrow. “Hnh, Sokka — giving me everything I want —”

“That’s right, everything you want, everything —” Sokka pants back, and reaches up to wrap a hand around the back of Zuko’s neck and haul him down for a sloppy kiss.

Zuko has to slow for a moment; with his hands still behind his back, he can’t get any leverage to move. Sokka’s hands coast down to his hips, holding him fast as he rocks up into Zuko slow and sweet.

The kiss is mostly just breathing into each other’s mouths, wandering tongues and half-moans, and then Zuko tucks his face into Sokka’s neck and nips at the skin there, drawing out a growling edge to Sokka’s noises — his hips buck up into Zuko harder.

“Sokka, _please_ , just need you to — need, ah —”

The hands at his hips dig their fingers in. “Need me to take care of it, huh?” The words come breathless, right by Zuko’s ear.

“ _Yes_ —” Zuko groans, and then Sokka’s slipping out, arms wrapping tight around Zuko as he flips the two of them over.

Sokka leans up and pats the side of Zuko’s hip. “On your stomach.”

Zuko wriggles over; it’s still awkward, switching around with his hands out of commission, but it’s worth it when Sokka’s hands grip his wrists possessively and press him down into the mattress. Zuko pushes back, wiggling his hips, and laughs when Sokka gives him a firm swat.

“Such a slut!” Sokka teases — Zuko moans back. “You want it?”

“Yes, please.” Zuko thinks he’s getting the hang of this, now that he can string two fucking words together.

Sokka nudges Zuko’s knees apart, and then Zuko feels the slick pressure of Sokka’s cock sliding in again, so slow, _too_ slow — Zuko urges his hips back, seeking more, and hears Sokka laugh again.

“God, you’re so desperate for it,” he murmurs, bending down to lay his chest on Zuko’s back and murmur those filthy words into his ear. “Can you ask nicely now?”

Zuko nods and presses his hips up again, whining when Sokka bottoms out.

“Hnh, c’mon, beg for it —”

His back flexes, arching up into the solid weight of Sokka’s chest — it’s breathtaking, feeling Sokka all around him, arms caging him in, mouth at his neck, cock deep inside him.

“Give it to me,” Zuko gasps, fingers digging into his palms. “Please, please, I need it, need you fucking me — ah, just like that —” Sokka’s taking him hard and deep, punching the breath out of him with each thrust and making him see stars. This, _this_ is what he needed.

Sokka’s hands grasp his hips, his sides, his shoulders, and then one hand slides to rest over the hollow of his throat, fingers brushing over his skin.

Zuko throws caution to the wind. “Choke me.”

Sokka’s hand flinches. “I — yeah?”

“Yeah, want you to — ah, fuck, _Sokka,_ do it —”

His hand slides up to curl around Zuko’s throat, squeezing gently at the sides.

Zuko whines at a particularly rough thrust of Sokka’s hips. “More, yeah —”

Sokka follows instructions, the pads of his fingers pressing harder into his hammering pulse. “Like this?” he asks, mouthing at Zuko’s jaw.

“Yeah —” The word leaks out as a whisper; Zuko can still breathe, a little, when Sokka’s not fucking him breathless.

Sokka groans, shifting his knees to get more leverage and forcing Zuko’s legs further apart — the change in angle sends sparks across Zuko’s vision, or maybe it’s Sokka’s fingers gripping his pulse, or maybe it’s Sokka’s voice all sweet and breathy in his ear — Zuko can’t tell. Does it matter?

He chokes out a whimper and Sokka’s hand squeezes tighter for a beat, then relaxes, and the blood rush makes Zuko even dizzier than before.

Sokka’s hand skirts up to grip Zuko’s jaw. “Hnh, baby — _fuck_ , I love you, so good for me —”

“I’m close again,” Zuko gasps, groaning when Sokka starts fucking into him harder.

Sokka’s breath is hot on Zuko’s ear when he murmurs, “Me too, gonna fill you up, isn’t that right?” Zuko just whines back. “Yeah, gonna — ah, gonna — god, yeah,” and then he devolves into a jumble of curses and _good boys_ and grips Zuko’s throat again.

Zuko’s head spins, and Sokka tucks his head into the crook of Zuko’s shoulder to moan into his skin as he finishes, bucking into Zuko hard and fast. He’s still dizzy with need even after Sokka relaxes and the blood floods back to his head again, when Sokka presses soft kisses to his shoulders and eases off the cuffs.

“Fuck,” Sokka half-laughs, still breathing hard. “Uh — yeah, _fuck_ about does it.”

Zuko flexes his wrists and elbows slowly; keeping them in one position for so long was a bit much. He eases over onto his back to see Sokka still looking at him with bright eyes and a threatening grin.

“…What?” Zuko asks, suspicious.

“You didn’t think I forgot about you?” Sokka teases, wrapping a hand around Zuko’s aching cock and laughing when Zuko moans, his newly-freed hands twisting in the sheets.

“I — I —”

“So perfect and slutty for me — I think you get a reward.” He settles between Zuko’s legs, grinning when Zuko’s knees fall apart again. “Shit. You’re a mess.”

He’s not wrong; there’s still some cum smeared on Zuko’s stomach from his first orgasm, his thighs are trembling slightly — despite his best efforts to hide it — and, _ugh_ , he can feel cum leaking from him. It makes Zuko flush even redder — and then Sokka runs a finger through it, slipping inside so easily Zuko has to turn his head and hide his flaming cheeks.

Sokka hums, slipping another finger inside like it’s nothing — shit, Zuko can feel how _easy_ it is —

“Fucking perfect,” Sokka hums, and when he takes the head of Zuko’s cock into his mouth too, Zuko whimpers, hips flinching down onto Sokka’s hand.

It’s not long before Sokka’s reduced him to a gasping puddle, finishing in Sokka’s warm mouth and quivering through the comedown. Sokka keeps blowing him long after he’s done; _too_ long, until Zuko’s so oversensitive and twitchy he has to push Sokka away.

“No more, _fuck_ , Sokka.”

Sokka pauses, then grins, and gives a teasing lick to his balls. “No more?”

“I don’t think I have anything left —” Sokka’s got that mischievous look in his eye, so Zuko waves him off with, “Red, red, I’m through. Shit.”

“Okay.” Sokka props himself up on his elbows. “Good, though, right?”

Zuko runs his hands over his face, trying to catch his breath and failing miserably. “Yeah, holy fuck. Really good.”

Sokka shimmies up the bed to lean over Zuko’s face. He’s still flushed, with those pretty eyes that crinkle up at the sides when he smiles like this — Zuko feels a little dizzy, still.

“Lived up to all your fantasies?” Sokka runs a finger over the line of Zuko’s nose.

Zuko exhales. “Uh. Yeah, you could say that. That and more.”

Sokka hums happily and kisses Zuko’s cheek; Zuko chases after him, pulling Sokka in by the back of his neck to kiss him slow and deep.

“Mmm. This is… great…” Sokka mumbles, through Zuko’s tongue sliding into his mouth, “…but don’t you think we should get cleaned up?”

“No.” _Fuck that._ He’s a mess, but he’s busy kissing Sokka, which is far more important.

Sokka snorts. “Come on, you can make out with me in the shower.”

Zuko _intends_ to do just that, but as soon as the warm water hit his skin, the exhaustion finally hits; he finds himself half-leaning on Sokka, face smushed against his solid chest.

“I’m glad you liked it too,” Zuko mumbles into Sokka’s chest, sighing when Sokka starts working shampoo into his hair. “Would be really awkward if you thought it was weird.”

Sokka laughs and scratches Zuko’s head affectionately. “Well, yeah, I liked it. I wouldn’t do things I didn’t want to do.”

“Mmmm, but you’d do things just to make me happy.”

He thinks for a moment. “True. But making you happy _is_ what I want to do.” He leans Zuko’s head back into the flow of water to work out the shampoo. “It’s hot when you’re all whimper-y.”

“Stop it.” Zuko can’t manage to summon enough grumpiness to make the complaint convincing, not when Sokka’s working conditioner into his hair with those, frankly, _magic_ fingers.

“It is! It’s one of my favorite things. That and when you couldn’t stop yourself from coming, that was incredible.” The memory sends a little thrill through Zuko, and he grumbles into Sokka’s chest to hide it. “Did you like that part? I thought you might safeword for a second there, but you didn’t, so — I just kept going, I dunno.”

Zuko picks his head up and cups Sokka’s cheeks in both hands. This _man —_ “Sokka, it was hot as fuck.”

Sokka’s mouth quirks up into a smile. “Okay, good.”

“I was _trying_ to ask permission like you said, but I had a fucking ball gag in my mouth —”

“Ha. Yeah. Sorry about that.” He’s grinning now, smug as ever. “But you liked your punishment, right? Riiight?”

Sokka leans in, looking for a kiss, and Zuko manages to get out, “Yes, I loved it,” before Sokka’s squeezing his arms around him and kissing him silly.

They scrub each other squeaky clean, going slow and gentle, until the bathroom’s filled with steam. Zuko’s half-boneless when he steps out, and Sokka is too, collapsing onto their bed with the towel still slung around his hips.

“Pajamas?” Zuko murmurs, and when Sokka hums an assent he roots around in their dresser, throwing whatever his hand finds first at Sokka’s head.

Bundled in bed, with Sokka’s arm thrown around him, Zuko hears a very sleepy, “Next time you’re not getting off so easy.”

“Easy?” Zuko squawks, indignant. “Easy, my ass.”

“Yeah, it is,” Sokka snickers, yelping when Zuko smacks his chest. “Love you, sweetie.”

Zuko tries to think of something to snark back, but — Sokka’s fingers are combing through his damp hair, Sokka’s kissing his forehead and he’s out like a light before anything good comes to mind.

**Author's Note:**

> *throws this onto ao3 and runs the other way*


End file.
